The Experiment
by Sabrina Sparrow
Summary: JOHNLOCK! This Story is Johnlock, before you continue reading! LOTS AND LOTS OF JOHNLOCK! Sherlock struggles to understand the basic knowledge of human sexuality due to lack of experience and turns to John for help. An interesting experiment to help Sherlock's understanding ensues.
1. The Experiment

**Hello dear readers!**

**I'm back with a brand new Johnlock story! I have big plans (big BIG plans) to make a sequel to my 'Johnlock: A Study Into The Heart' story, but until I have the complete storyline for that figured out, I shall be writing this, a completely UNRELATED story!  
**

**This is an explicit, M-rated Johnlock smut story, so no younglings allowed, make sure you're age appropriate, blahblahblah-sorry, they MAKE me say that...! Also this story is available on AO3 where I write under the pseudonym of Sabrina_Sparrow, and I'm doing this because I want the story to be available on BOTH sites. I'm still carrying on with my teen!lock story on AO3, 'The Curious Case Of The Boy With The Raven Hair', nobody panic!  
**

**Thanks very much for clicking onto my story and I hope you like it. Feedback is always more than welcome!**

_I just found something interesting you left on the kitchen table. By mistake I assume, but interesting nonetheless. JW_

_Dull. SH_

_It's an experiment. JW_

_You act as if this is news to you. SH_

_An experiment all about me, it would seem. JW_

_About you? SH_

_All about me. JW_

_I forbid you from looking at it. SH_

_Too late. "Watson's Wanking Cycles" eh? Nice title. JW_

_I said don't look! SH_

_Why exactly have you been listening to my wanking sessions, may I ask? JW_

_John Watson, you put my experiment down right this instant! I'm coming home right now! SH_

_Loving this column here: "Moaning Volume" —very detailed! Oooh, apparently I'm loudest on a Friday night. Isn't that a coinky-dink?! JW_

_I'm in a taxi right now. When I get home you are dead. SH_

"_Enthusiasm" column is very interesting too. Mondays I just don't put my heart into it, you're right. JW_

_I am five minutes from the flat. May I suggest you make yourself scarce before I come in and rip your head off. SH_

_Which head? JW_

_I'm here. You're dead. SH_

John laughed and put his phone back in his pocket. He could hear Sherlock marching up the stairs to the flat. He threw the front door open, standing in the doorway like an angry and very embarrassed madman.

"Oh." John looked at him, still holding the experiment files in his hand. "You're back."

"Put it down!" Sherlock demanded, walking into the flat and slamming the door behind him.

"Why should I?" John challenged.

"That's my stuff! You're not allowed to touch it!"

John laughed. "How old are you? Five?"

"I mean it!" Sherlock snapped, reaching for his experiment papers. "You're contaminating my data!"

"_Contaminating your data_?" John echoed, keeping the papers out of Sherlock's reach. "It's an observational experiment, Sherlock. It's not like I'm sticking my fingers into one of your petri dishes."

"It's a _natural_ study!" Sherlock hissed, snatching the files off John and hugging them protectively to his chest. "You knowing about it ruins it!"

John shrugged. "Turn it into a field study."

Sherlock scowled at John. "Why would I want to do a _field_ study on your masturbation habits?"

"Why would you want to do a _natural_ study on my masturbation habits?" John countered.

"I was trying to study human sexuality and now it's ruined!" Sherlock accused. "I can't observe you anymore because now you're aware of the experiment. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to conduct a blind experiment as it is?"

John blinked. "You were watching me wank, really?"

"No, I was listening outside your door."

"For how long?"

"The past month. Can you not _read_ the graph?!" Sherlock waved the experiment in front of him.

John shrugged. "I found reading your footnotes much more interesting."

"Idiot." Sherlock muttered. He turned on his heel, stormed off to the living room and collapsed sulkily onto the couch.

John rolled his eyes and followed Sherlock. He sat down in his armchair and watched the Detective as he glared up at the ceiling. "Look, you're embarrassed, I understand."

"I'm not embarrassed." Sherlock spat.

"Your cheeks are _very_ red for someone who is not embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed." Sherlock snapped. "My brain is merely releasing adrenaline that is causing my blood vessels to dilate in order to improve blood flow and oxygen delivery. It is a natural human process."

John nodded. "Exactly. You're blushing."

"Maybe I'm just feeling a little warm."

"Maybe you're feeling embarrassed at being caught listening to me wank?"

"Shut _up_!"

John laughed. "It's way too much fun winding you up, you know that?"

Sherlock rolled over, turning his back on John. "Go away."

"Look." John said, evenly. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm not embarrassed. You're interested. This is just one of your Sherlock things. You find something interesting and you pursue it. Admittedly, this is a little bit of a more delicate subject, and if we weren't just close friends I wouldn't be so okay with it. But you're my best friend, and trust me I've done weirder stuff with blokes than this in the Army. So stop sulking, because I'm not mad at you. Everything's fine."

Sherlock hesitantly looked at John over his shoulder. "You… you're not mad at me?"

"Nope."

"We're still friends?"

"Of course we are."

Sherlock turned to face him. "Can I carry on with my experiment or will that bother you?"

John paused. "It's a little weird… but I suppose so. It's not like I can stop wanking."

Sherlock rolled onto his back again, made a steeple with his fingers under his chin and stared up at the ceiling, thinking. "I'll have to alter it slightly. It will have to become a field study and it's no longer a blind experiment like you said. I'll need to collect background data, run some surveys on you and such. And now that it's not a blind study I can get to change some variables, which might be fun. I can see what different stimuli you respond to—oh this could be _very_ fun! Think of the possibilities, John!"

John stared at Sherlock. "I'm beginning to regret this already."

Sherlock sat up and shook his head. "Nonsense. This is simply an experiment designed to help my knowledge of human sexuality and nothing else."

John arched an eyebrow at him. "You promise? This is purely scientific and nothing else? We won't get personal?"

"I promise."

"And whatever goes on won't go beyond these four walls?"

Sherlock put his hand over his heart. "You have my word."

John let out a big sigh. "Oh… fine, what the hell."

Sherlock clapped his hands together. "Wonderful! Wait here, I'm going to get a pen!"

John frowned and watched Sherlock as he bounded off to the kitchen. "A pen?"

"Yes!" He came back into the living room, sat on the sofa and opened his experiment files, ready to write. "I need to conduct a survey, background information is always handy for the final write-up on a field study."

"Of course, how could I forget?" John mumbled.

Sherlock clicked the top of the pen. "Let's start with something easy. How often do you masturbate per week, roughly?"

John shrugged. "I don't know, four or five, maybe more."

Sherlock nodded, scribbling John's answers down. "And is it predominantly in the same environment?"

"Mostly in my bedroom, but sometimes in the shower."

"Do you require both penile and prostate stimulation to climax?"

"Just penile."

"And what do you think about when you masturbate?"

"Sherlock!"

"What?" He asked. "It's all purely scientific!"

"Asking what I think about is a little personal, don't you think?"

"Not in the name of science."

John signed and leaned back in his chair. "Women."

"There are seven billion people on the earth John, half of them are women. Be more specific."

John sighed again. "Women I've slept with in the past. Women I'd _like_ to sleep with. Celebrity women, models, actresses, that kind of stuff."

"And what do you imagine doing with them?"

"Sherlock…"

"Answer the question, John."

John paused. "I think of all the things I'd like to do with them. Sometimes I imagine it's _their_ hand on me instead of mine. Sometimes I replay sexual encounters I've had from the past, sometimes I make up new fantasies."

Sherlock's gaze flickered up to meet John's. "Fantasies?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Like what?"

John rolled his eyes. "Oh you know, the normal stuff."

"There is no room to be vague in a field study, John." Sherlock said.

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is the weirdest conversation we've ever had."

"Weirder than the one about the frozen turkeys and the ice-cream van last week?"

"All right, the _second_ weirdest conversation."

Sherlock paused. "Look, John, you don't _have_ to tell me. It would just help me out a bit. Why do you think I'm conducting this experiment in the first place? I know _nothing_ about human sexuality. I've only had sex once before and it was awful. I've never tried it again and now it remains a mystery to me. I promise I'm only using this information to help with my understanding. I won't judge you, I won't think any less of you, I swear."

John stared at Sherlock. He'd only ever had sex _once_?! This brought up a million other questions, but John knew better than to ask any of them right now. "Well…" He mumbled, unsure.

"Yes?" Sherlock prompted.

"There was this girl." John said. "Lorna. I dated her for a while. She was this tall, leggy blonde, amazing ass, really sensitive boobs; her legs went on for _miles_. All you had to do was kiss this specific point on her hip and she'd melt."

Sherlock nodded, pen writing again. "You fantasise about her?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I'm pushing her against a wall in an alleyway, hitching her skirt up and just taking her right there. Sometimes I'm pinning her down on my bed, making her beg for me, torturing her until she can't take it anymore. Sometimes _she's_ the one who gets to torture _me_, bringing me to the brink over and over again until I'm shaking and begging for her to let me come…" He trailed off realising how uncomfortably tight his jeans had become. "Uh…"

Sherlock's gaze was drawn to the bulge in John's trousers. "Oh…" There was a long, awkward pause before Sherlock jotted down in his files, "Easily aroused…"

"Sherlock!" John hissed, covering his lap with a cushion.

Sherlock frowned. "I don't know what you're covering up for, we're about to conduct out first experiment together."

John frowned. "What?"

"You're going you get yourself off and I'm going to watch."

"What?!" John almost choked.

"That's the whole point of this experiment, isn't it?" Sherlock said, standing and walking towards John. "I get to observe you and eventually draw my conclusion."

"I don't think I quite agreed to _that_."

"John, it's all purely scientific."

"It's really not."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Are you worried about the fact that you're doing this in front of another man?"

"Well, yeah, a little."

"You're not gay John. Doing this will not make you gay."

"Yes, I know that."

"Good." Sherlock took John's hand and pulled him to stand. He began to lead him to John's bedroom. "Let's go."

John followed reluctantly. "I knew I'd regret this…"

**So, I hope you all liked it! Check out for any updates and take a look at my AO3 account Sabrina_Sparrow if you fancy it!**

**Thanks!**

**xoxo**


	2. The First Test

**Hello there!**

**First of all can I say thank you to everyone for the absolutely staggering support I've gotten so far from you all. I'm really glad you're all liking this story!**

**Secondly, I'm not sure if this chapter flows as well as it could, or if the tone is just right, so any feedback would be brilliant.**

**Thank you for reading!**

Sherlock practically pushed John down onto the bed. "Trousers off! Pants down! Chop, chop!"

"Alright! Steady on!" John said, sitting up in bed. "I haven't actually decided if I'm okay with this yet!"

"Nonsense, John!" Sherlock chimed. "This is all in the name of science!"

John arched an eyebrow at Sherlock. "Science wants me to get my dick out, does it?"

Sherlock nodded and opened his files, his pen at the ready. "That it does. Go on, you get started, don't mind me."

John's mouth fell open, incredulously. "You… you're just going to stand there and take _notes_?!"

"That was the general idea, do keep up."

John dragged a hand over his face. "No. No, no, no, definitely not."

"Yes." Sherlock insisted. "Hurry up, your erection is going stale."

"I can't just do this with you standing there watching me."

"Why not?"

"I feel too exposed. To vulnerable." He explained.

Sherlock paused. "So what are you proposing? Should I get involved? Assist you?"

John shook his head. "No. No, definitely don't want to be doing any of that."

Sherlock sighed. "Well hurry up and decide what you want to do, John, we're losing daylight here."

John bit his lip, thinking. "Come here. Lay on the bed. It'll feel less like I'm being watched."

Sherlock obeyed orders and lay on the bed beside John. "Now what?"

"No making notes." John said. "You can do that later, when we're done."

"But I need to record the data while it's fresh in my mind!" He protested.

"No." John said, firmly. "No. There is no way I'll be able to come with you scribbling down notes about how loudly I moan and what my technique is like. Just act like a fly on the wall, alright?"

Sherlock sighed and lay flat on his back, head facing John. "Fine." He mumbled, sulkily.

"Right." John nodded. "And no touching."

"What about talking?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." John said, laying down getting comfortable. "This is so weird."

"In your own time, John."

John sighed. Slowly his hands drifted to his trouser zipper and he dragged it down over the bulge in his jeans. Lifting his hips up, he pulled his jeans down past his arse revealing his grey boxer shorts.

"Nice underwear." Sherlock commented.

"Shut up." John breathed. He could already feel the heat of his cock and his right hand came up to gently palm himself through the soft fabric. He let his eyes flutter shut and he let out a soft, "Oh…"

Sherlock's eyes widened a fraction. He hadn't expected John to take his time over his masturbation sessions like this. He himself was greedy and most of his orgasms were over in a flash. But John seemed to like sensitising himself first before he allowed himself to properly touch.

John continued with the palming, barely touching, before he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peeled them down, his erection springing free, dark red and practically throbbing, desperate for attention. Sherlock had to cover his mouth with his hand so he wouldn't make a sound. John was _big_.

Slowly, John wrapped his hand around himself, starting at the root, gripping firmly. He let out a soft moan at the first delicious touch. He dragged his hand all the way up at an agonisingly slow pace, pulling his foreskin all the way over the top. His neck arched and he let out a wanton moan. "Oh God…"

"John…" Sherlock breathed.

"No talking." John mumbled, beginning to slowly stroke himself. He ran his thumb over the head and moaned again, louder.

"What are you thinking about?" Sherlock asked, quietly, his gaze fixed on John's hand working on his cock.

"Lorna…" John murmured. "Her breasts… her hips… her thighs—ohhh…!" He moaned loudly as he cupped his hand around the head and rolled gently. "Fuck…"

"What do you want to do to her?" Sherlock asked.

"I want to fuck her." John breathed.

"How?"

"Pin her down, make her tremble, make her beg—God… oh God…" A tremor ran through his body."

"Imagine that's her." Sherlock instructed. "You hand is her mouth, John. Are you imagining it?"

"Yes…" John groaned. "Fuck yes…"

"Run your thumb over the head again. That's her tongue licking you."

John did as he was told, rubbing his thumb over the head again, letting out a soft moan. "Oh God…"

"Feel good?" Sherlock's voice had seemed to drop several octaves.

"Mmm…uh-huh…"

"Stroke yourself now." Sherlock ordered. "She sucking you now, taking all of you in her mouth, root to tip."

John started stoking his length again, hard and fast. "Oh… oh God…"

"Good boy…" Sherlock practically purred. "Just like that. Very Good."

"Oh _God_!" John moaned loudly.

"Are you close?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded, tugging hard, a strangled sound coming for his lips.

"Good." Sherlock said, shuffling closer. "I want you to come. She's finishing you off now. I want you to come."

"Oh….oh Christ… Oh God…" John panted, his hand moving frantically over his cock.

"Come. Now." Sherlock near-demanded.

"Oh my… oh my God…!" John could feel his balls tightening, the tension building and curling in him ready to snap at any moment. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God."

"She's sucking you, John." Sherlock continued. Sitting up and shrugging his suit jacket off. It was hot in John's room, unsettlingly so. "Harder and faster. She won't stop until you come."

John was desperately trusting his hips up, chasing his orgasm. "Oh God! Oh God! Fuck! Oh….! Oh! _Oh God!"_

John pushed himself over the brink, his head tipped back, his neck and back arched as he came all over his stomach. His hand kept moving on his cock as he rode his orgasm out, slowly beginning to relax as he came back down from his high. His hand fell to his side and he let out a content sigh. He opened his eyes and jumped out of his skin to find Sherlock looming over him, a quizzical expression on his face. "Sherlock! What the hell?! Give me some breathing room!"

Sherlock didn't move away. "That lasted approximately four minutes and seventeen seconds, that's a lot shorter than your six minutes and forty-two seconds."

"Get away from me!" John said, pushing Sherlock back with his clean hand.

"You appear to come faster when you have someone with you providing erotic stimuli. Interesting."

John grabbed the box of tissues off his night stand and cleaned himself up before pulling his boxers and jeans back up. "Bloody hell, such pillow talk."

"I wonder you would respond to other type of dirty talk." Sherlock mused. "Would you respond in the same way if I were to say that a man were sucking you off as opposed to a woman I wonder?"

"Sherlock, enough." John sighed. "Not in the mood for any of the science stuff alright? I just came, all I want to do right now is sleep."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Very well." He sat up and paused, eyes widening. "Oh…"

John looked at him. "What?"

Sherlock's eyes flickered down to his own crotch. He was hard. Absolutely rock hard. "Um… right…"

John saw what he was looking at and his eyes widened. "Shit. Did I… did that happen because of me…?"

"What?" Sherlock looked at him, sharply. "No. Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

John held up his hands. "Alright, I was only asking."

"My body was just responding to the situation at hand, John." He continued, defensively. "It understands a sexual act is going on and it gets turned on by said sexual act. It has nothing to do with _you_."

"Okay, I said alright. I believe you, no need to get your panties in a twist."

"My panties are _not_ in a twist!" Sherlock spluttered, his face steadily turning red.

John held back a laugh and stood up, tucking his shirt back in. "Right, well, I'm going to take a nap on the sofa. You feel free to stay here and take care of your business."

Sherlock's eyebrows shot up. "In your bedroom?"

"Well I hardly think you're in a position to walk back to _your_ bedroom, do you?"

Sherlock paused, shifting slightly on the bed and wincing. "You may have a point there."

John laughed. "Have fun. Strip the bed sheets when you're done please." He turned to leave.

"John, wait."

John looked back at him. "Yeah?"

"Do you have lube in here?"

John arched an eyebrow at him. "Lube?"

"Yes." Sherlock nodded. "I require both penile and prostate stimulation to climax."

_That_ certainly took John by surprise. He hoped it hadn't registered on his face. "Um, yeah, sure. Top draw on the bedside table."

Sherlock nodded. "Thank you." There was a long pause. "You can leave now."

"Right." John said, quickly, realising he was still staring at Sherlock. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

"Don't make a mess." John warned, shutting the door behind him. He stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. "Science." He told himself, quietly. "All just for science."

He turned and walked across the hall to the bathroom to clean his hands properly before going downstairs. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was mussed, his cheeks rosy, eyes sleepy.

The most worrying thought in his mind was the fact that had been the best wank he'd had in a long time. He shook his head and pushed that thought to the back of his mind and locked it away in a draw marked _dangerous_. He would tackle _those_ thought at a later date when he didn't feel like collapsing and sleeping for days on end.

He left the bathroom and walked back down the hall, passing his bedroom. The door had opened and was left slightly ajar.

"_Oh…_" A soft sigh reached his ears.

John froze outside the door. Sherlock was really getting himself off on John's bed. The idea was surreal. He knew he should just walk away, leave Sherlock to it and go take his nap, but his feet were rooted to the spot.

He peered through the gap in the door and his jaw fell open. Sherlock was lying on John's bed, stark naked, one hand working his cock, the other fingering himself.

"Ohhh… oh God… oh God… _fuuuck…"_ Sherlock moaned, writhing on the bed.

"Christ…" John muttered. He tried to drag his eyes away, but it was like he was hypnotised. He'd never seen Sherlock like this before, so open and vulnerable, giving into his body's desires, tipping his head back and moaning shamelessly.

Sherlock's back arched and he let out a strangled moan. He was close to climaxing, eyes screwed up, biting down hard on his lower lip. "Oh…. Oh… Oh God, _please_."

John was confused at what Sherlock was begging for until Sherlock let out a frustrated cry, his climax slipping away. It was suddenly very clear. Sherlock couldn't come. John winced. He knew the feeling all too well sometimes.

Sherlock's hand tugged furiously on his cock, his finger inside him fucking him raw. "Come on, come on, come on…_ please_…"

John felt a pang of guilt. Sherlock would be mortified if Sherlock knew John had been watching him. He should go take his nap and give the younger man some privacy. He stepped back and a rogue floorboard under his foot groaned loudly.

"Shit."

Sherlock looked up immediately and saw John spying on him. "John?"

"Sorry, just leaving." John said, cheeks flushing red, moving away.

"Wait!" Sherlock cried, desperately. "John! Please! Come back!"

John peered back through the doorway, awkwardly. "Um, yeah?"

"Help me." Sherlock begged. "Please, I'm so close, but I can't… I can't… oh please, John?"

John shuffled uncomfortably where he stood. "Sherlock… I'm not really comfortable with touching…"

"No touching." Sherlock said, quickly. "Just talk to me like I did for you? Please? John, _please_?"

John paused torn. He let out a long sigh. "Fine. It can't hurt." He opened the door fully and stepped inside. The room smelled musky and John's mouth practically watered.

He sat on the bed beside Sherlock and looked at him from head to toe. God, he was… _something_. All long and thin with alabaster skin. His chest was slightly more toned than John had imagined it to be. Sherlock's face and neck were flushed red, his eyes, desperate as they watched John.

John's gaze travelled further south and he swallowed loudly. Sherlock was impressive, no doubting that, dark and throbbing, desperate for release.

"Please, John." Sherlock moaned, his hands still working on himself. "Help me."

John quickly looked back to Sherlock's face. "Right…" He said slowly. "Um… Imagine a girl. A tall redhead with long legs and curvy hips. Imagine how she looks naked. Imagine that's _her_ hand touching you instead of yours_—"_

"No…" Sherlock breathed. "No women."

John arched an eyebrow. "No women?"

"Men, John. Talk about men. I'm gay."

John's eyebrows shot up. "Wow, okay."

"Problem?"

"No I just… I'm lacking inspiration now…"

Sherlock groaned in frustration. "Johnny Depp. Talk about him. Do it, hurry."

"Right okay, sorry." John said, quickly. "It not a woman touching you. It's him. It's Johnny. You prefer how he feels to a woman. He knows how to touch you just right. He knows how to make you come."

Sherlock moaned loudly. "Good, John. Good. Don't stop."

"That's his hand stroking you. He wants you to come. He wants to see you come and lick up everything that spills onto your stomach." John continued, making it up as he went along, hoping it sounded alright. "He wants to see your face when you come, so badly."

"Oh God… Oh… _Ohhh…_"

"There's a good boy." John soothed. "That's it. Those aren't your fingers inside you, it's his cock."

Sherlock's neck arched and he cried out. "Oh, God! Oh God!"

"That's it." John breathed. "Come for him. Come on. He wants to see you come."

Sherlock writhed on the bed, hand tugging hard and fast on his cock. "_Oh God. Oh God. Oh God._" His back arched, his eyes screwed up, his mouth falling open as he let out a wanton moan. Suddenly he let out a cry of pain, eyes snapping open. His hand had stopped moving on his cock.

"What is it?" John asked worried. "What?"

"Cramp." Sherlock panted, looking at the still hand on his cock. "Oh God, no…" He groaned, distraught.

John swallowed hard. Without thinking about it, he pushed Sherlock's hand out of the way and started stroking him himself. Sherlock's head fell back and he let out the loudest moan yet.

"Forget about Johnny Depp." John said, gruffly. "Now you're coming for _me_."

"Oh _John…"_

"Come, Sherlock. Let go. I want to see you come."

Sherlock could feel the tension inside him building, winding like a coil. His balls tightened almost to the point of pain. He hovered on the brink, tipping over the edge, desperately trying to chase his orgasm. It wasn't until he felt John's lips kiss his inner thigh that he was pushed over the edge.

Sherlock cried out, loudly as he came over John's hand. John continued to gently stroke him as he rode his orgasm out, letting go when it was over. Sherlock was shaking, limp and drained. He slowly pulled his fingers out and let his hand flop down by his side.

John pulled the bed sheets up and over Sherlock, wiping his hands on some discarded tissues. He gently touched Sherlock's face. "Are you alright?" He asked. Sherlock looked exhausted, shaking like a leaf.

"M'fine, fankoo." Sherlock mumbled, not opening his eyes.

"You're shaking." John said.

"It's been a while since I've come."

"How long?"

"Just over a year."

John was shocked. "You haven't wanked in a year?"

"I have." Sherlock mumbled. "Just haven't been able to come any time I did it."

John blinked. "Wow…"

Sherlock lazily held a hand out to John and tugged at his arm. "Come here. M'cold."

John paused. "I can get you a blanket. I don't think snuggling bed is a… a particularly _wise_ idea…"

"Only this one time." Sherlock said. "Please, John?"

John sighed and laid down, pulling Sherlock into his chest so they were spooning. "Only this once." He clarified. "And only because I'm knackered."

"Fankoo John." Sherlock drawled sleepily.

"And that was the first and last time I'm touching your cock, understand?"

"I understand."

"From now on, this all stays purely scientific, agreed?"

Sherlock yawned and stretched before snuggling back against John. "Agreed."

**Thanks for reading!**

**And to my friend in real life who reads this story and then teases me about it afterwards (you know who you are!) get off my story!**

**xoxo**


	3. Changing Variables

**Hello all!**

**Another update, I hope you'll all like it as much as you did the last one. Same as last time, I really don't know if this chapter flows as well as it could, so any feedback would be really appreciated!**

**P.S. To my boyfriend who now finds it hilarious to read this story and quote it back to me, get off my story RIGHT NOW! Seriously, stop reading my gay porno stories!**

John plonked a cup of tea down in front of Sherlock. "We need to talk."

Sherlock looked up at John. "Hm?"

"About last night. We need to talk."

Sherlock picked up his tea and took a graceful sip. "Talk away."

"I woke up this morning spooning you."

Sherlock nodded. "Yes. Yes you did."

"And you were naked."

"Yes. Yes I was."

"I wanked you off!" John hissed. "I touched your… your..."

"Penis." Sherlock finished for him.

John flushed pink. "Not so loudly!"

"Oh yes, I'd hate for Mrs Hudson to hear." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

John gritted his teeth, becoming irritated. "Do you not see the issue here?"

Sherlock sighed and put his tea down. "You're not gay, John. There, happy? You're not a big fat bender like I am, you're normal. Does that feel better?"

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "I didn't say that."

"No, but it's what you were thinking."

"There's nothing wrong with being gay, Sherlock."

"Gee thanks." Sherlock muttered, standing and moving to the living room so he could flop down on the sofa. "Thanks for reassuring me, I feel so much better now."

John followed him. "I'm just saying that things went too far last night."

"I didn't ask you to touch my cock, John."

"I know, I—" John faltered. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Sherlock sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Let's just blame it on the heat of the moment and leave it at that. No point regretting last night for the rest of your life."

"I don't regret it." John said, quietly.

Sherlock looked at him. "What?"

John sighed and sat down in his armchair. "I said I don't regret it."

"But—"

"I certainly feel weird about it and I definitely think I crossed a line that I really shouldn't have crossed… but you needed my help. I don't regret it."

Sherlock sat up and watched John. "Are you saying we can continue with the experiment?"

John shrugged. "May as well. In for a penny, in for a pound."

Sherlock smiled slowly. "John Watson, you are amazing."

"Yeah, yeah, you owe me one."

Sherlock frowned. "I owe you one what? One hand-job?"

John almost choked on his tea. "No! No. God no. It's just an expression, Sherlock."

Sherlock shrugged. "Very well, I was just offering."

John laughed. "Thanks, mate."

"It was a serious offer."

John rolled his eyes. "Sure it was."

"It was."

"Yeah, alright."

"John." Sherlock said, firmly. "It was a serious offer."

John paused and looked at him. "…Really?"

"Yes. I like touching dicks, did you miss that part before?"

John blushed and looked down into his mug. "Right, yes, well… I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll be alright."

Sherlock shrugged and lay back down on the sofa. "The offer is still open."

"Thanks, I'll bear that in mind." He paused, studying Sherlock. "Was that really the first time you've come in a whole year?"

"Yep."

"You can't bring yourself to orgasm?"

"Not anymore it would seem."

"Isn't that really frustrating?"

"You have _no_ idea."

John hesitated. "I propose my own experiment."

Sherlock turned his head to look at John. "Oh?"

John looked back down into his mug. "How many times can I make you come throughout this whole experiment."

There was a long pause before Sherlock spoke. "That's kind of more of a tally than an experiment."

John sighed. "I'm trying to do something nice for you here, you twat."

Sherlock watched John. "I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. You're my best friend, I can't afford to lose you."

"Sherlock, if I were going to leave, it would be over the head in the fridge or the eyeballs in the microwave not a sneaky shared wank in my bedroom."

"Touche."

"So what do you say?" John asked. "Do we have a deal?"

Sherlock grinned up at the ceiling. "Oh, you bet."

"How old were you when you had your first kiss?"

John finished his mouthful of chow mien before speaking. "Thirteen."

Sherlock nodded, scribbling down John's answers on a sheet of paper. "And what did you make of it?"

"Hated it. She was sixteen and she was doing it for a bet. She shoved her tongue down my throat, it was awful."

"You don't like kissing with tongues?"

"I like it to a degree." John said. "Nothing wrong with a bit of tongue, but I don't like it when it feels like they're trying to lick the inside of my mouth clean. There is an art to kissing with your tongue."

Sherlock nodded. "Yeah, I'm not a fan of tonsil tennis either."

John smiled. "How old were you when you had your first kiss?"

"Seventeen." Sherlock said. "And it was with a girl. I hadn't come out yet and I hated it. It felt all wrong. I didn't kiss anyone again until I was twenty-one, and that was with a guy. Much nicer experience." He looked down at his clipboard. "Alright then, how old were you when you first fell in love?"

John laughed. "Eight."

Sherlock blinked. "Seems a little young."

"Her name was Stacy and she lived at the end of my road."

Sherlock nodded. "And you had a crush on her?"

John shook his head. "Not her. Her mum."

Sherlock grinned. "So I suppose you could say… Stacy's mum's got it going on?"

John choked on his mouthful of food, laughing. "Have mercy, Sherlock, I'm eating."

"I apologise."

"And what about you?" John asked. "Who was _your_ first love?"

"Never been in love." He replied, simply.

"What, _never_?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Don't really see the point."

"What do you mean?"

"Love is painful, pointless and overrated." Sherlock said, clinically.

John frowned. "I think there is more to it than that."

"Not to me there isn't."

"That's a very cynical way to look at the whole thing."

Sherlock shrugged again. "I don't care. How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

"Seventeen. You?"

"Twenty-four."

John arched an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

"Yes."

"And you never had sex again afterwards?"

"Never really saw the point." Sherlock said. "I didn't like it the first time round, there seemed no point in continuing."

"Sherlock, _everyone's_ first time is awful."

Sherlock looked at him. "Even yours?"

"Even mine."

"What was so awful about it?"

"We were both virgins, neither of us had any idea what we were doing. I was making it up as I went along and she was in pain the whole time. It was very awkward and unenjoyably. It got so painful for her she started crying and I had to pull out. Even then she didn't stop crying so I drove her home and she never spoke to me again. Didn't have sex again for a while after that, I was too terrified."

Sherlock paused, looking at John. "But you like sex now?"

"I _love_ sex now, especially now that I know what I'm doing. Practice makes perfect."

Sherlock snorted. "In that case I would be terrible."

John shrugged. "After a few times it gets easier, trust me."

"If you say so." He said, pulling his laptop onto his knees. "But that's enough for that survey. It's time to get onto our second experiment. Now, tell me, what are some of your preferred porn websites?"

John's eyes widened. "You want to do the second experiment? Right _now_?"

"Yes."

"But I'm eating my dinner."

"I'll heat it up for you later."

"Sherlock…"

"Favourite porn website please." Sherlock pressed. "Preferably one that won't give my laptop a virus."

John tiredly rubbed a hand over his face. "Why do you want me to watch porn? We didn't do that last time."

"Exactly." Sherlock said. "And that is the beauty of a field study—I get to change one variable each time. I'm changing erotic stimuli. Last time it was dirty-talk, this time it's pornographic images. Now, favourite porn sights, come type it in, I'll get your provisions."

Sherlock jumped up and bounded from the room, John watching him go. With a sigh, he stood up, took his dinner to the kitchen before returning back to the living room. He sat on the sofa and pulled the laptop onto his lap. He typed in the search bar '_Busty Blonde Beauties'_ and the homepage that he knew far too well popped up.

Sherlock came back with a bottle of water, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues. "Are you ready?"

John sighed and searched through the videos. "As I'll ever be."

Sherlock sat beside John. "Busty Blonde Beauties, eh? Very classy."

"Shut up." He clicked a video of two blonde girls, sat back and pressed play. It wasn't long before his hand started to drift south, palming himself through his trousers. Hard already.

Sherlock sat beside him, simply watching. He didn't like the choice of porn whatsoever, blonde lesbians did absolutely nothing for him, but he was here to observe John.

John slowly undid his jean buttons and dragged the zipper down. He slipped his hand inside his boxers and groaned at the first touch.

"Trousers down." Sherlock said. "Boxers too. I need to see what you're doing."

"Cant." John mumbled. He lifted his hips up. "You do it."

Sherlock looked at John, flustered. "Are you sure?"

"Just pull them down for God's sake."

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on." Sherlock muttered.

He hooked his fingers in John's belt loops and tugged his trousers down to his knees. He hesitated before curling his fingers under John's boxer waistband. John tensed, his hand stopped moving.

"In your own time." John said.

"Sorry, sorry." Sherlock muttered, pulling them down too.

John lowered his hips, looked back at the girls on the laptop screen and his hand started moving again, firmly stroking himself. I was a struggle not to let his head roll back and his eyes close, but he wanted to focus on the girls on screen. One of them was going down on the other. John swept the pad of his thumb over his head and moaned loudly.

"Good, John." Sherlock said. "Do it again. Make yourself moan like that again."

John did as he was told and repeated the action. His back arched and he moaned even louder than last time.

"Good boy."

"Are you hard yet?" John gasped as he began to firmly stoke himself again.

"Um… not exactly." Sherlock said.

"What's wrong?"

"The lesbian porn is making it difficult."

"Change it to something you like." John panted. He cupped his hand and rolled it over the head, groaning softly.

"But you don't like—"

"Just do it. Trust me, I'm going to be coming tonight regardless of what is on that screen." He made a tight fist with his hand and pushed into it, thrusting his hips up. "Ohhh God…"

Sherlock groaned at the sight of John and quickly turned to the laptop. He typed in the name of a gay porn website he frequented and clicked on one of the videos. "Oh Lord…"

"Better?" John gasped, still thrusting into his hand.

Sherlock pushed down his trousers and boxers, already half-hard at the sight of a blonde man sucking off his dark-haired male partner. "Much." He wrapped his hand around his own cock and started to stroke, but John pushed his hand away. "What are you doing?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm ambidextrous." John said, gripping Sherlock firmly at the root and dragging his hand slowly all the way to the top. "I can handle this."

Sherlock's eyelids fluttered. "Oh… oh God."

"Good boy." John said, stroking them both to the same rhythm.

Sherlock fumbled with the bottle of lube and generously covered two fingers in the clear liquid. He reached around John's hand and slid his own hand between his legs. He massaged his opening until he felt himself relax before pushing in with one finger. His back arched and he moaned loudly.

"God, Sherlock…" John breathed. "Like that, just like that."

Sherlock fingered himself in time with John's stroking. "Oh my God, John…"

"I've got you, relax, relax." He said, twisting his hands gently as he stroked up, making both himself and Sherlock groan in unison.

"Fuck…" Sherlock murmured. He pulled his finger out and pushed back in with two fingers and cried out. "Oh God… oh fuck… Christ…"

John started to move his hands faster and Sherlock fingered himself to the same pace.

"Oh God… Oh God… Oh God…" John panted.

"Fuck… oh fuck… _John_…"

"Are you close?"

"Yes."

"Shall I…?"

"Oh God yes."

John sped up as fast as he could with both hands. He looked over to Sherlock and saw him writhing on the sofa beside him desperately fucking himself with his fingers and he groaned. His head fell back against the sofa, no longer paying attention to the porn, just focusing on Sherlock's cock in his left hand and his own in his right.

"Oh God… John… oh God…"

"Sherlock… _fuck_…."

"Close… Close… _Ohhh…"_

"Come for me, Sherlock." John demanded, breathing ragged. "Now. Come for me now."

"Oh God…Oh John…" Sherlock threw his head back as he was brought to the brink. "Oh… Oh… _Oh! John!"_

Sherlock's back arched as he reached orgasm, his body shuddering as he came over John's hand. John groaned as he watched Sherlock come, that being enough to push him over the edge. The coil that had been winding tighter and tighter inside him suddenly sprung free and he was coming, hot white liquid spilling over his hand and stomach. He groaned loudly, feeling himself already relaxing back into the sofa. He looked over at Sherlock and saw him pulling his fingers out and he let go of his friend's cock.

"You came." John said, almost smugly.

"I did. Twice in one year, it's a record." He handed John the tissues.

"Thanks." John cleaned his hands and stomach up.

Sherlock smiled, pulling his boxers and trousers up. He stood up and dusted himself down. "Well alright then."

John frowned as he re-dressed himself, watching Sherlock. "Where are you going?"

"I promised you I'd re-heat up your food when we were done, didn't I?" He said, walking out to the kitchen.

John let his head roll back against the sofa and laughed. "Bloody hell."

**Thanks for the support so far, guys. Keep an eye out for updates...!**

**x**


	4. The Devil's Trap

**Hello there!**

**Thank you all for being so patient with this update. Long story short, I failed one of my university modules and I've been devoting all my time to doing my re-sit assignment. With a bit of luck I'll pass and get into next year...!**

**As always, I'm not sure of this chapter, so any kind of feedback you may have would be brilliant!**

**Thank you for taking the time to read my story!**

**Oh, and dearest boyfriend, if you're reading this... GET OFF MY STORY!**

"Put this on." Sherlock said, tossing the deep red shirt at John.

John looked up from where he sat on the sofa. "Pardon?"

"Go shower and put that shirt on." Sherlock repeated. "Sorry, did I stutter?"

John looked Sherlock up and down. He looked good. Already showered and shaven, dark hair perfectly imperfect, wearing that purple shirt John liked. "Are we going out?" He asked.

"We are indeed. Chop-chop." Sherlock said, walking back to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of wine.

John arched an eyebrow at him. Sherlock _never_ drank. "Are you alright?"

"Never better." Sherlock said, downing his wine and pouring himself another glass.

"Are you sure? You seem a bit on edge."

"John, I am fine. In fact I'd be feeling a whole lot better if you just hurried up and got ready."

John looked at his watch. "It's already nine o'clock. Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there."

John sighed. "What's going on? Are we on a case?"

"It's part of our experiment." Sherlock said, impatiently. "Now for the love of God, stop asking stupid questions and go get ready."

John scowled at him. "Alright, calm down, no need to be a prat."

Sherlock chose to ignore John and down the rest of his wine before pouring himself yet another glass. John sighed again and left him to it. He made his way to the bathroom to quickly shower and wash his hair. He shaved and brushed his teeth, letting his hair dry naturally.

He wrapped a towel around himself and went back to his room. He dressed smartly in the deep red shirt and black jeans. He pulled on some smart shoes before joining Sherlock downstairs.

"How do I look?" He asked.

Sherlock looked at him and smiled. "Good, John. Very good. Very attractive."

John frowned. "Try not to sound so surprised."

Sherlock pushed a glass of wine into John's hands. "Here, drink this. I'll be waiting in the cab."

"But Sherlo—" John was cut off as Sherlock shut the door behind him. John sighed and quickly drank his glass of wine before following Sherlock outside. He hopped into the cab beside the detective and asked, "So where are we going?"

"Soho Square." Sherlock said to both John and the cabbie.

"Anywhere in particular?" The cabbie asked.

"The Devil's Trap."

The cabbie smiled at Sherlock in the mirror and then at John. "Oh aye? Well, each to their own..." He pulled away from the curb and started down the road.

John looked at Sherlock. "What's The Devil's Trap?"

Sherlock shrugged and looked out of the window. "Just a club."

"You're taking me clubbing?"

"It's all part of the experiment."

"I think I'm a bit too old for clubbing."

"Probably." Sherlock nodded. "But I have a feeling you'll like this one."

John blinked and started at Sherlock. "What does that mean?"

But Sherlock didn't answer. John could see him smile in the window reflection, but apparently that was all he was willing to say on the matter.

"Sherlock!" John hissed, following as Sherlock pushed his way through the queue of people waiting to get in the club. "We can't just push in! We have to wait at the back of the line!"

"No we don't, we're V.I.P.s." Sherlock said, elbowing a cute red-head out of the way.

"Since when?! This is the first time we've been here!"

"No, this is the first time _you've_ been here."

John's eyebrows shot up. "You frequent here?"

Sherlock flashed him his diamond membership card. "Yes."

"Bloody hell, Sherlock."

Sherlock reached the front of the queue and showed the bouncer his membership card. "Sherlock Holmes plus one. We're on the list."

The bouncer checked his clipboard and nodded, holding the door open. "Alright. In you go."

"Thank you." Sherlock said. Then he did something very unusual. He took John's hand and led him inside the club.

John looked down at their hands. "Um… Sherlock…?"

"Hush, John. We're undercover as a couple."

"We are?"

Sherlock squeezed his hand. "We are. Now let's go get a drink." He led him over to the bar.

John frowned. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Definitely not." He tapped the bar top to get the barman's attention. "One wine and one pint of Strongbow please."

John shook his head. "I can't drink cider, I've already had a glass of wine. I don't mix drinks."

Sherlock paid the barman and pushed the pint into John's hands. "You do tonight. Drink up and I'll buy you another one."

John sighed and took a long sip of his pint. He looked around the club. It was very modern, with youngsters in their early twenties mingling on the dance floor. He accidentally locked eyes with a tall, blonde girl wearing a little black dress who smiled and winked at him. John smiled back, absent-mindedly biting his lip, and the girl giggled.

"John." Sherlock snapped. "Drink. Now. Stop drooling over barely-legal girls you clearly have no chance with."

John turned to look at him. "Thanks, Sherlock."

Sherlock frowned at him. "What?"

"Really nice way to boost my confidence."

"What? What did I say?"

John shook his head and looked away. "Nothing."

"Hello, blue-eyes."

John looked up to see the blonde girl from before standing in front of him. God, she _was_ tall. He smiled. "Hello there."

"I was wondering if I could drag you away from your boyfriend here for a dance?"

John blushed. "Oh, he's not my—"

"Sorry." Sherlock said, snaking a hand around Sherlock's waist. "He's all mine."

John looked at Sherlock in surprise and gave him a look of _ what on earth do you think you're doing?!_

"Shame." Said the blonde. "I was hoping you'd share." She looked directly back at John. "My name's Lara."

"John." John grinned.

"And I'm Sherlock, in case anyone was wondering." Sherlock smiled, tightly. "Goodbye, Lara."

"Sherlock." John hissed, shoving him away. "I'm a grown man, I can do what I like."

Lara looked between John and Sherlock. "Look, I didn't want to create an argument, I just wanted a dance. Never mind, I'll just—"

"Nope." John said, holding his hand up. "I'd love to dance with you."

Lara's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Really." He took her hand. "Let's go." He downed the rest of his pint feeling a pleasant buzz before leading her to the dance floor. He could practically feel Sherlock glaring after him.

On the dance floor John's hands instinctively went to the girl's waist as her hands went around his neck. He smiled up at her. "You look gorgeous. That's a beautiful dress."

Lara smiled. "Thanks. I only ever wear it to this place."

"You come here often?"

"All the time." She looked over her shoulder at Sherlock. "Your boyfriend is pretty possessive."

John grimaced. "Yeah, he's _something_ alright."

"You don't expect to find possessive people in places like this."

John frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well you know, there would be no point in going downstairs if your partner is too possessive to let you have any fun. After all, isn't this what this place is all about? Safe, sexy, guilt-free fun?"

John blinked. "Sorry I… what's downstairs?"

The girl's eyes widened. "Oh, is this your first time here?"

"Well, yeah."

"No problem, everyone here is really welcoming. What was the name of your old sex club?"

John almost choked. "Sex club?"

"John, darling." Sherlock said, approaching the doctor from behind and kissing just behind his ear. "I got you another pint." He handed him the pint of Strongbow.

John jumped out of his skin at the kiss. "Sherlock…?"

"Drink up, John. We need to get going downstairs."

"Downstairs?" John squeaked.

Sherlock nodded. "Yes. Now drink."

John put the pint glass to his lips and began to slowly chug his cider.

Sherlock slipped his arm around John's waist again. "Sorry to be stealing him back from you so soon, but we need to be hitting the basement floor right about now."

Lara smiled brightly. "Well I'm going down there later on, maybe I'll see you there?"

"Maybe." Sherlock said, coolly.

"Hopefully." John smiled.

"Be quiet and drink your drink, John."

John glared at Sherlock but finished off his pint. "There, happy?"

"Delirious." He took the glass from John and gave it to Lara. "Wouldn't mind taking that to the bar for us, would you? There's a dear." He grabbed John's hand and yanked him away, pulling him sharply through the dance floor.

"Sherlock!" John hissed. "That was _beyond_ rude!"

"Look at me and tell me if it looks like I care."

"Why are you in such a bad mood tonight?" He demanded.

"I'm not, you're just being disagreeable."

John scowled at him. "And when exactly were you going to tell me that this is a sex club?"

Sherlock paused and looked at him. "Problem?"

"A little. I don't appreciate being lied to."

"I didn't lie, John. I merely didn't tell you."

"Let's not squabble over semantics, shall we?"

Sherlock sighed. "This is just the next part of the experiment. I'm going to take you downstairs to watch some pretty girls play with each other, you're going to touch yourself, and I'm going to watch."

John paused. "Girls?"

Sherlock nodded. "Girls like Lara."

"Am I allowed to touch them?" He asked.

"No."

"Are they allowed to touch me?"

"No. You can only watch."

John frowned. "I think I'd have more fun touching."

Sherlock copied John's scowl. "Why would I want to watch you touch other women?"

"Why would you want to watch me wank?" John countered.

"For science."

"Yeah, but is it really though?"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

John sighed. "Nothing. Just take me to the pretty girls. I'm done with you today."

Sherlock nodded to a door guarded by another bouncer at the back of the club. "After you."

John turned on his heel and strode towards the door. "Sherlock Holmes plus one. We're on the list."

The bouncer's eyebrows lifted. "Sherlock Holmes brought a plus one?"

Sherlock appeared behind John and flashed the bouncer his membership card. "That I did. Hello, Salem, how's the wife?"

Salem nodded. "Can't complain. How's the boyfriend?"

Sherlock dropped a hand onto John's shoulder. "This would be him."

John shot Sherlock a dirty look but it was ignored.

Salem smiled. "So _this_ is John? Nice to finally meet him." He held open the door for them. "You boys have fun tonight."

"We will." Sherlock took John's hand and led him through the door and down the steps. They walked along a long corridor, heading for the door at the very end.

John sharply tugged his hand free. "Sherlock what the hell is going on here? Why have you been telling everyone I'm your boyfriend?"

Sherlock shrugged and made a concerted effort not to look at John. "A little white lie never hurt anyone."

"Telling people I'm your boyfriend isn't exactly a little white lie, Sherlock."

"Well it's practically true, anyway." The words slipped out of Sherlock's mouth before he could stop them.

John looked at him, sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Slip of the tongue."

"You've been having lots of slips of the tongue lately it would seem.

"John, grow up."

"_You_ grow up!" John hissed. "All of this is completely mental, do you understand that?! This experiment, the sex club, telling people I'm your boyfriend—all of it! You know I have the mind to just stop all this right now—"

John was cut off as Sherlock opened the door for him, revealing a second club underneath the first one filled with girls in their twenties and thirties, dancing, barely dressed. John's jaw fell slack.

"You were saying?" Sherlock asked.

John stumbled over the threshold into the room, mouth hanging open. "I think I've died and gone to heaven…" He mumbled.

A man dressed in a smart tux came over and offered them both champagne, which they took.

"Forgive me yet?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded. "Uh, huh…"

"Well, let's take a seat." Sherlock said, taking his hand and leading him over to one of the sofas in the middle of the room. There were a few other guys in here, much like John, marvelling at their luck that their partners had brought them here. Beside John on the sofa to his left, two girls in their underwear were passionately kissing.

John sipped his champagne and smiled. "I like it here."

Sherlock smirked. "Is any of it having an… effect on you yet?"

John looked down at the bulge in his trousers. "I'll say."

"Pick a girl John. Any girl. I'll arrange something for you."

John looked at him, incredulously. "Seriously? That's how it works here?"

Sherlock shrugged. "People here are very open-minded."

John nodded and looked around the room. He spotted the cute red-head from before that Sherlock had shoved in the line. "Her. I like her."

Sherlock nodded. "Alright."

"What are you going to say to her?"

"I'm going to ask her to come over here and do whatever it takes to make you come without touching you."

"You're going to ask if she'll let me wank over her?"

"Pretty much."

"Why can't I touch her?" John asked. "Why can't she touch me?"

"Because it will contaminate my data. Now stay put." Sherlock turned on his heel and walked over to the girl. He introduced himself, smiling. The red-head smiled back and giggled as Sherlock whispered into his ear. She nodded and let him lead her back over to John. "I'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend, John." Sherlock said. "He's bisexual, so I bring him here so he can get the best of both worlds. John this is Penny."

John smiled up at Penny, who was standing before him in her underwear. "Hello, Penny."

Penny smiled. "Hello, John. I understand you want to get off to me. Is that right?"

"Oh, God yes."

Sherlock sat back down at a safe distance on the sofa, simply observing now.

Penny leaned forward and pressed her lips to John's briefly. "You've got it."

"No touching." Sherlock barked.

Penny smiled at John. "He's very possessive, isn't he?"

"You have no idea."

Penny winked at him. She reached behind her back and undid her bra, letting it fall to the floor. John tried his best to keep eye contact and not look at her breasts. She laughed. "It's okay. You can look."

John bit his lip and let his gaze flicker to her chest. He groaned, one hand palming himself gently through his trousers. "Are we allowed to do this kind of thing in here?" He asked, quietly.

"Look around." She smiled. "It's a sex club, darling. Everyone's doing it."

John looked around and found that indeed everyone else was pretty much in the same position as he was.

Penny clicked her fingers in front of John's face. "Eyes on me, John."

John looked back to her and smiled. "Sorry."

She smiled back. "Good boy. Now get your cock out."

John hesitated only for a moment before unzipping his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers, his erection springing free. God, he was hard.

Penny smiled and pushed her panties down, letting them drop to the floor. "Such a good boy."

John groaned at the sight before him and gripped himself firmly, slowly stroking. "Oh… _God…_"

Penny smiled and strolled towards John. She lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him, careful not to let anything touch. "_Such_ a good boy. I'm going to make this worthwhile."

Sherlock frowned at her. "No touching. That was the agreement."

"I'm not touching. Not anywhere important, anyway." Penny said. She leaned in towards John and whispered into his ear. "Not yet anyway…"

John groaned loudly and smiled up at her. God, she was stunning. Never the type of girl he'd go for usually. Never the type of girl he stood a chance with.

Penny put one hand on John's shoulder, bracing herself. She brought her other hand to her mouth and sucked on one finger, gently. Slowly she took her hand away from her lips and trailed it down her body, past her breasts, down her stomach, down even further, right to in between her legs. Slowly she pushed inside herself, moaning loudly, her head tilting back.

John let out a strangled moan. There was a beautiful woman sitting on his lap, fingering herself and he wasn't allowed to touch. His hand moved faster, stroking himself harder.

"Oh God…" She groaned, fingering herself. "John… I'm pretending it's you."

John rested his free hand on Penny's hip, steadying her. He didn't want her to fall and hurt herself. "I want to touch you." He whispered.

"Go on then." She grinned at him.

John grinned back and trailed his hand up from her waist to cup her breast. Penny's eyes fluttered shut and she moaned, her hand between her legs working faster.

"John!" Sherlock barked, irritated.

But John ignored him. The only thing he enjoyed more than pleasuring himself was getting to pleasure someone else, and Penny seemed to have _really_ sensitive breasts. He gently squeezed and massaged and her moans grew louder as she fucked herself with her fingers. His hand had almost stopped moving on himself as he focused on her.

"You are so beautiful." He said, softly, leaning forward to lick her nipple. "I want you to come for me."

Penny groaned and leaned forward to kiss John. "Oh _God…_"

"Faster… harder… _fuck yourself_, Penny." John murmured against her mouth. "There's a good girl…"

"Oh God… Oh God… Oh God…" She panted.

"Come on, that's it." John purred, his hand stationary on his hard cock by this point. He just wanted to see her come. "That's me inside you."

"Oh… Oh… _God! John!" _She cried out as her orgasm hit her. Her entire body trembled as she rode it out. She slumped in John's lap when it was over, carefully pulling her fingers out.

John brushed her hair out of her eyes and gently kissed her. "Beautiful."

Penny smiled. "Sorry. Came a bit early."

John shrugged. "I can finish myself off."

"Oh that's _definitely_ not going to happen." She said, getting off his lap and kneeling between his legs. She licked her lips and reached for the table beside the sofa where they kept a little dish of condoms. She ripped one open and rolled it onto John who groaned at the touch. "I'm going to enjoy this."

"I think I am too." John breathed, eyelids fluttering.

Penny smiled at him once more before taking all of him into his mouth. John's head rolled back onto the sofa and he let out a shuddering moan. It had been a long time since he'd had someone go down on him.

Penny moaned around John's cock as she slid her mouth up and down his shaft. John groaned and his hands went to her hair, holding on gently, keeping it out of her eyes. It felt amazing. She dragged her tongue up his length and licked at his head, and that was the moment John realised she had her tongue pierced. He let out a load moan, body shuddering.

"Oh God… Oh God… Oh God…"

Penny worked her mouth faster as John got closer, sucking him. John's breathing was shallow, his back arching, biting his lower lip against the moans that wanted to escape his mouth. He was close. He made the mistake of looking down at her and the sight of her sucking him off proved too much. He cried out as he came, his orgasm taking over, making him tremble.

He seemed incapable of moving, so Penny took off the condom for him and pulled his boxers and jeans up, zipping them up. She tenderly kissed him.

"Thanks." John mumbled, blissfully.

"Anytime, Sugar." Penny grinned. "I'm here every Friday night. Hopefully I'll see you again."

"Oh, I bloody hope so."

She laughed and winked at him before looking at Sherlock and blew him a kiss. She quickly dressed back in her underwear before leaving them to it to join her girlfriends again.

John had almost forgotten about Sherlock. He looked over at him and saw him glaring at him. "So…" He began.

"You broke the rules." Sherlock said, sharply. "You were only supposed to watch."

John shrugged. "I like getting involved. No harm done."

"_Lots _of harm done." Sherlock said. "My experiment is ruined."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is." Sherlock said, standing up. "You've ruined the data."

John frowned. "I think you're being a bit dramatic."

Sherlock swallowed hard. "Hardly. You know what John, if you wanted to fuck a bunch of girls, you could have just said rather than wasting my time and making me watch." And with that, he turned on his heel and left.

"Sherlock!" John yelled. "Sherlock! I didn't even fuck anyone! Sherlock!"

But he was already gone.

**Sorry this was so long...**

**Keep your eye out for updates!**

**x**


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